Tank Girl's No Good Very Kick You in the Cunt Bad Day
by CherryCuntea
Summary: Part 1 of a few one page entries of a random story. Judge Dredd May be included. Honestly this is one of those stories where we are literally going to see where the muse decides to take me. A fucked up bad day, a short beginning and so begins that awkward encounter from the mind of a smelly and bald anti-hero who happens to drive a tank.
1. Chapter 1:oooo Child

Tank Girl's No Good Very Kick You in the Cunt Bad Day

Part 1

-Cherry Cuntea

Today was one of those days where I felt everything. The sun looming down on my face as I managed to crack down, wibbling eye, crooked brow, drag of my cigarette with a come hither narrow. Ain't nothin was goin bloody right. I plotted my arse down by a fountain. The spewing water from the stone figure lugging a jar of water usually had a calming effect on me. The world droning on with their hither and fro of frucked up ideals. Singing carols several weeks before the uniform birthdate of a potential resurrecting lich. Craning my neck I looked up in a moment to see a teetering tot and a plump mother squaring off around the circular path. Me? Directly in their fuckin way.

"Oh don't worry dearie will just go through you." The croak of the mum bloats out as I puff smoke accidently in her spawn's direction.

Few things I try not to do in my line of work. Yeah I've fuckin kicked a bent cunt to their knees, spleened out all the red rubied glorified guts of gangsters and pranksters, shit I even stole a fuckin candy from a kid. But I try to be somewhat up standing. Cancer ain't one. I growled clenching my fists. I did not want to deal with bloody gits today.

"I'll fuckin move." A low growl cascades from my throat as I start to move. The spawn skipping by proudly holding mum's nub.

"Oh dearie we'll just go…."

"I SAID I'M FUCKIN MOVIN!" My vocal chords not withstanding as I fly up, my body contorting through the small open gap between Madonna and child. My body on fire as I feel the need to escape from this egotistical hallmark moment. My teeth grinding as my boots storm the pavement, dragging across to a safe way from the empty heads of these bastards.

I feel her stares on my skin, etching into me. Snickers and whispers. It's not like me to bitterly dash. I usually role a head or two. Something was rotting up my head. Feeling it tone and swell in my mind and I know this is just the beginning.

I park my ass down on a bench in front of a green pasture mural. Two dimensional cows staring back at me, black puckish eyes like they know something better. My head hanging back, body limp. Eyes wide shut, cigarette draped from my mouth. Sun still beating down on this fucked up mood. Suddenly a shadow casts over me. I can smell swine as a gruff voice coughs, "Trespassing."


	2. Chapter 2: Along Came Dredd

Tank Girl's No Good Very Kick You in the Cunt Bad Day

Part 1

-Cherry Cuntea

Today was one of those days where I felt everything. The sun looming down on my face as I managed to crack down, wibbling eye, crooked brow, drag of my cigarette with a come hither narrow. Ain't nothin was goin bloody right. I plotted my arse down by a fountain. The spewing water from the stone figure lugging a jar of water usually had a calming effect on me. The world droning on with their hither and fro of frucked up ideals. Singing carols several weeks before the uniform birthdate of a potential resurrecting lich. Craning my neck I looked up in a moment to see a teetering tot and a plump mother squaring off around the circular path. Me? Directly in their fuckin way.

"Oh don't worry dearie will just go through you." The croak of the mum bloats out as I puff smoke accidently in her spawn's direction.

Few things I try not to do in my line of work. Yeah I've fuckin kicked a bent cunt to their knees, spleened out all the red rubied glorified guts of gangsters and pranksters, shit I even stole a fuckin candy from a kid. But I try to be somewhat up standing. Cancer ain't one. I growled clenching my fists. I did not want to deal with bloody gits today.

"I'll fuckin move." A low growl cascades from my throat as I start to move. The spawn skipping by proudly holding mum's nub.

"Oh dearie we'll just go…."

"I SAID I'M FUCKIN MOVIN!" My vocal chords not withstanding as I fly up, my body contorting through the small open gap between Madonna and child. My body on fire as I feel the need to escape from this egotistical hallmark moment. My teeth grinding as my boots storm the pavement, dragging across to a safe way from the empty heads of these bastards.

I feel her stares on my skin, etching into me. Snickers and whispers. It's not like me to bitterly dash. I usually role a head or two. Something was rotting up my head. Feeling it tone and swell in my mind and I know this is just the beginning.

I park my ass down on a bench in front of a green pasture mural. Two dimensional cows staring back at me, black puckish eyes like they know something better. My head hanging back, body limp. Eyes wide shut, cigarette draped from my mouth. Sun still beating down on this fucked up mood. Suddenly a shadow casts over me. I can smell swine as a gruff voice coughs, "Trespassing."


End file.
